Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Deceptive Cadence ( Chapter 56 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 56/?

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Warnings: AU, yaoi, coarse language, violence, angst, cliffhangers, red herrings, mention of various vices, random bits of useless knowledge, occasionally explicit sex, enough footnotes to choke an army of horses.

Spoilers: Nah

Disclaimer: I don't really need to be Captain Obvious here, do I? No ownership, no money being made, yadda yadda. Written for fun, not profit.

Archived at:
http://www.atsui.org
http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com/gw /Mookie/gwmookie.htm

Edulcorate (verb) - To free from harshness (as of attitude); to soften

~~~~~

Chapter 56 - Deceptive Cadence

"I guess there is no way to understand something that is hard to believe even when it's there." - Never Wait, Dionysus

At times it's so confusing, these questions of the heart...and patiently you'd wait, 'til I came to my senses..." - The Search is Over, Survivor

"...soon you'll know...I'll find a way to take back what is mine..." - Loaded Gun, Dionysus

~~~~~

Quatre quietly opened the door to the apartment and saw the suitcase sitting there in the kitchen, along with a duffel bag and the portable computer.

He found Heero sitting on the couch, reading.

"I see you are ready to go," he said sadly.

Heero nodded, then closed the book and stood up. He crossed the living room and enveloped Quatre in a hug, much like he had done to Trowa earlier.

"I will miss, you, Quatre," he sighed into the blond's ear. "And I wanted to thank you." For finding me. For being my friend. For pushing me toward the Ferrari. For showing me I was capable of love, and for loving me even when I wasn't.

Quatre pulled back and looked into intense blue eyes, feeling as if he were drowning in them. He brushed the hair away from Heero's forehead, exposing the thick eyebrows that were so often drawn together in dissatisfaction.

"You'll...stay in touch?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

Heero ran a hand through Quatre's hair, his fingertips grazing the scalp gently.

"I'd like that. Very much," he said. "I left my cell number on the table. I might not be able to return any calls for a while, though."

They separated completely then, and the reality of what Heero was saying snapped Quatre out of his momentary stupor.

"Will you be put back on active duty right away, do you think?"

Heero shook his head. "Not likely. I will have to attend several counseling sessions to insure that I am mentally fit first, although perhaps I can get cleared for some deskwork in the meantime. It will probably all hinge on what the psychologist thinks of me after our meeting tomorrow."

"What about the fact that you..."

"I will likely have to inform the good Doctor Hunter of my recent employment activities," Heero frowned. "If I don't, and it comes up later, I may be subject to some rather unpleasant interrogation. By coming clean now, I can show that I've moved past it, and have overcome what could be seen as an 'overindulgence.'"

"Does Trowa know?"

Heero looked surprised at the question, then realized Quatre was referring to his job and not to the information he was going to provide during his counseling sessions.

"I mean," Quatre floundered. "Trowa has this...he doesn't approve of...he has a real issue with...illegal drugs. I think he'd be...pleased."

Heero nodded to indicate that he understood. "No. I didn't tell him. It didn't come up in conversation." He narrowed his eyes at his roommate. "How did you know I spoke to Trowa today, anyway?"

Quatre laughed softly, then reached a hand to Heero's shoulder and plucked off a hair considerably longer than Heero's, but not nearly as long as the one Heero had found on Quatre's sleeve the previous day.

"You're not the only one who can play detective," he said.

"No," Heero agreed. "I'm not."

"It wasn't your fault, you know, Heero. What happened to Kitty."

They'd never really gotten into exactly what had happened, because Heero hadn't wanted to detain Quatre longer than he already had, especially knowing his roommate had a meeting with his father that he was nervous enough about keeping.

Maybe it was time to come out and say it, though. He owed Quatre that much.

"We had a...disagreement," he said. "Just before I left. We had a case that was nearing a turning point, and I had only a couple of days off. I missed her, went back home to see her. I couldn't tell her where I was going, so I lied.

"Of course she knew me well enough to see through it, but she let me off the hook. Until I found out she'd made some new friends."

Quatre nodded, but didn't say anything. Iria had been the same way, wanting to meet all of Quatre's friends, not that there had been that many. She'd always felt that someone who was afraid to meet a friend's family had something to hide.

"I didn't have time to meet them, and she...she..." his hands made a few aimless gestures. "She was angry. I didn't have time to straighten things out, as I'd been lucky to get the time off in the first place. There were agents from three different field offices involved in the operation, as well as local law enforcement officers and the Colombian National Police. It took our task force months to dismantle that particular drug trafficking network.

"There were a lot of civilian deaths. Not as a result of our actions," Heero said. "But the gangs involved - they wanted to protect and expand their empire. Homes were invaded, robberies committed, gunshots fired - a lot of it took place in Western New York, some of it in Massachusetts. It never ceases to amaze me at how widespread they all are.

"The federal government has unwieldy names for everything, worse than businesses. The Organized Crime Drug Enforcement Task Force. That's what this was, the combined efforts of a program involving damn near everyone - FBI, US Customs, even the IRS."

"And the Drug Enforcement Administration," Quatre said softly.

Heero nodded. "Yes."

"A number of agents took a leave of absence following that operation. The blood of innocents is never easy to accept. I sometimes feel like it should bother me more," he said after a moment. "The fact that it never ends. This is why I do it, right? Using what I know, what I'm good at, to break down the drug trafficking networks. To prevent the smuggling and sale and use of controlled substances."

"You like the adrenaline rush," Quatre surmised.

Heero exhaled, nodding. "I do. It's why I wasn't entirely satisfied working in the IT department. Sick fuck," he muttered.

"No," Quatre shook his head. "No, Heero. You enjoy what you do, but if you weren't doing this, you'd find something else to focus those energies on. You don't get off on the drug issue; you just feel the electric charge of pursuit. It's like I did when I was trying to convince someone to let me fuck him. It's not that I wanted it, but knowing I could, that was...heady."

Heero's lips formed a hint of a smile.

"And then you'd talk them out of it just as fast."

Quatre laughed. "Double the fun, and I got paid for it, too," he sighed. "You're good at what you do, Heero, I'm sure of it. Keep in mind that you did bring an end to that particular drug cartel. If you didn't enjoy your job, you wouldn't be half as effective." He paused, then asked, "can you tell me more about Kitty?"

"There was a damned witness, near the end. Someone needed to make sure the guy didn't get whacked before he testified."

"You were that someone?"

"Everyone else, they had families. Noin wanted to stay behind, but I didn't want her to..." he trailed off, looking almost ashamed before lowering his gaze to his feet.

Quatre tried to peer under the bangs hiding his roommate's face. "Heero, are you telling me you felt you needed to protect your partner?"

"NO! Not...yes," Heero admitted. He ran a hand through his hair and looked Quatre straight in the eye. "She'd kill me if she knew that, too, especially considering..."

"Heero?"

"Kitty was shot and killed the day before I got back." Heero took a deep breath. "The height of irony, Quatre. She was just an innocent bystander in some drug deal gone awry. The buyer didn't have the money, so he tried to hold up a gas station, and she was in, quote, the wrong place at the wrong time, unquote. I can't tell you how much I hate that expression.

"I went there, to the Exxon station, after I found out what happened, to make inquiries, acting like a morbidly curious civilian, no matter how much it sickened me. What a mistake. I wanted to kill the manager, Quatre. He insinuated that Kitty was involved in it. Know why, Quatre? Do you know why?"

Quatre shook his head.

"Because she was Colombian. Or maybe he didn't know that, maybe he thought she was Mexican, or Puerto Rican, or...it doesn't matter. I wanted to tear his heart out with my bare hands. I wanted to take his gas station apart brick by brick."

"You wanted Kitty back."

Tears were running down Heero's face, and he nodded. "And I wanted Kitty back. I should have gone back sooner, should have told her that I trusted her..." he wasn't able to continue.

Quatre cleared his throat and tried his best not to give into the tears that were threatening to spill over his own cheeks.

"Do you really think, Heero, that she didn't know that?"

Heero bowed his head and didn't answer. He felt Quatre's arms around him again, and he clung to his roommate with a sense of desperation.

It was supposed to be easier than this. He'd decided to go home, to face his demons. He hadn't taken into consideration that he'd only taken the lid off the box.

He'd lost Kitty, he'd lost Duo, and for a while, he'd lost his faith in himself. He looked up at Quatre and saw, not sympathy, but understanding.

Kitty was gone, Duo was gone, but Quatre was here, warm and caring and alive.

He needed that. He desperately needed that reaffirmation.

He slid one hand up Quatre's back, over his neck, until it was buried in the soft blond hair...and kissed him.

~~~~~

Relena Darlian dragged her carryon through the airport and decided she had time to stop for a cup of coffee and a sandwich. She'd barely been able to eat all day, what with the dark cloud that had followed Milliardo ever since Noin had shown up.

When she'd mentioned Heero's theory to her brother in the car the other day, it had occurred to Relena that Noin was still a touchy subject, if reminders of her job had the ability to make him go rigid. He'd been unhappy when he had to leave the Army and take up the reins of the family business, and had seemed to go through a bout of self-pity and anger whenever a letter from Lucrezia would arrive in the mail.

One day he actually broke something after receiving her correspondence, and Relena hadn't been able to resist digging the letter out of the wastebasket to see what had enraged him so.

She'd pieced it the torn pieces together and hadn't been able to figure out why news of Noin's decision to return to civilian life bothered him so. It was wonderful news, she'd thought, and continued reading the letter as best she could. Some of the words were smudged with sweat. She could picture her brother's hands gripping the page tightly as he tore it to bits.

"In order to... I must consider relocation anywhere in the United States. However, you know that the physical exam and drug test results will not...very optimistic about my chanc... Special Agent."

Relena read as much as she could, all the way to the bottom, where it appeared that Noin informed Milliardo that she would call as soon as she had news, one way or the other, and that she was sorry she wouldn't be able to contact him sooner.

Milliardo had avoided Noin's phone calls after that. It was easy enough to do, as he was at the office many long hours, for days on end. It had taken Relena a while to realize that he was having Pagan run interference, ostensibly because he was on his always on his way out, even if he'd just returned.

Lucrezia had stopped by a month later, brimming with excitement. Milliardo, who had not been expecting to see her in person, was caught off guard.

She'd found opportunities in three different field offices, she'd said, and of course thought that the one in Los Angeles was the obvious choice.

Relena's presence was all but ignored when her brother indicated that perhaps Noin should go where she was needed the most, and put her personal preferences aside.

Lucrezia had looked like she'd been slapped then, and said that was certainly very good advice. She'd spared a moment to chat with Relena before she left, but it had been obvious that she was eager to depart.

She'd tried again to make contact, this time after she'd obtained an apartment not far from the field location she'd chosen. She must have decided that the only way to talk to Milliardo was to visit in person, because that's what she did.

Relena had noticed then that Lucrezia's hair was much longer than she'd ever remembered it being, and had wondered if Noin had just started growing it since she left the Army. Her reasons certainly couldn't be the same as Milliardo's, but Relena thought it looked very pretty. She'd even told Noin that, before she left, after once again receiving the cold shoulder from Milliardo. She'd been even more frustrated than the last time.

The third time Noin came to visit, it seemed that Milliardo was over being inhospitable, and they seemed to regain some of the camaraderie that Relena remembered when they'd first started 'dating.' At least that's how she'd always seen it, but then she'd only met Noin a few times when Milliardo was on leave. They'd always seemed to be too close to be considered friends, although it was hard to imagine something as mundane as Milliardo presenting Noin with flowers and candy, and just as impossible to see Noin blushing prettily in response.

Relena had been too young at the time to understand that Milliardo, despite whatever feelings he might have for Lucrezia, still harbored a deep-seated resentment. Now that she was a bit older, she wasn't sure if he resented Noin for having a job that put her military training to good use, or if he resented their father all the more now that he had a reminder that his girlfriend had what he could not.

He made a point of calling it a civilian job, saying the words as if they carried heavy meaning. They probably did. Relena wasn't even sure if government jobs should or could be considered 'civilian,' but perhaps that was one of Milliardo's many digs at Lucrezia's career choice.

Noin tried, Relena knew she did. She had grown close to the dark-haired woman, and thought many times that this was what it would be like to have a sister.

She would not have called Lucrezia for help if she'd known it would make things worse. As she'd told Heero, she would always trust her brother's desire to do the right thing, but sometimes he made horrible mistakes out of an over-inflated sense of pride. Normally she'd allow him to do what he thought was best, but this time she was concerned. She, not Milliardo, had spent time listening to Dorothy Catalonia's many innuendoes.

Then Heero had stunned her speechless when he'd mentioned seeing Dorothy at the Tiara, where Milliardo had gone to meet someone. Relena had been so sure he was meeting Lucrezia, considering that she had recommended the hotel that housed that particular restaurant to Noin. It was definitely one of the more reasonably priced Beverly Hills lodgings.

It had to have been the meeting with Dorothy that had changed his mind, or maybe his mind had been made up all along, and he'd wanted to convince himself he wasn't making a mistake. Lucrezia had obviously never made contact with him, or Relena would have known about it by now, from Noin herself, if not her brother.

She had assumed that Noin had been called back to work unexpectedly and just hadn't had the opportunity to let her know.

Relena had been both surprised and delighted to see Quatre Winner at the meeting. She'd known that Winner Industries had been in the list of candidates for the salvation of the Peacecraft Corporation, but Milliardo had dismissed them as a possibility as soon as he realized the kind of investment capital he needed.

She'd had a mild crush on the blond when they first met, before she realized that he was like that with everyone. Seeing him again was the second surprise she'd received after Heero's news about Dorothy.

The third had been when all eyes turned to Noin after the meeting had concluded. She'd been standing in the doorway to the conference room. The tension was thick enough to cut like a knife as soon as Milliardo realized she was there. Relena was grateful to Quatre for providing her with an escape from what looked to be a hostile situation, and part of her still clung to the hope that her brother and Lucrezia might somehow patch things up.

~~~~~

A short time later, Noin walked in the room where Quatre and she were catching up on old times, and she'd looked extraordinarily pleased. At first Relena thought perhaps a miracle had happened, and she really had gotten back together with Milliardo.

Quatre demonstrated that remarkable ability of his then, to be able to quickly assess a situation, and he very subtly shook his head before Relena opened her mouth.

Relena waited for the older woman to speak first, and to her surprise, Noin had said, "Tell me again about the young man you had lunch with the other day, but this time I want to hear the full version."

Her heart sank a bit at those words, because it seemed perhaps that Noin was combining work with what she'd hoped was going to be a social visit. Despite her disappointment, she'd rattled off what she could remember that Heero had told her, assuming that was the information that Noin was really interested in.

Noin grinned at that, as if the information confirmed something she'd suspected all along.

Relena wondered if Noin had come to Los Angeles to help convince Milliardo not to get involved in any business dealings with Romefeller, or as a lead on a case she was working. Although the latter seemed unlikely, Relena really wasn't sure how widespread these things were. It had seemed as though Noin might have been in the middle of something big when she'd called.

The fact that Lucrezia had agreed to fly to Los Angeles had caused the hope in Relena's heart to blossom. She really thought that, deep down, Lucrezia had come to see Milliardo, but not because of anything related to either illegal drug activity or Romefeller.

Noin had bid farewell shortly after that, but not before giving her a tight hug and telling her to keep her chin up and to stand up to her pigheaded brother. She said she'd get a lot more accomplished by staying true to her principles. Even Quatre had given one of his very slight nods to indicate that he thought Noin's advice was sound.

After Lucrezia left, Quatre stayed behind long enough to be sure that Relena was feeling up to the confrontation that she was bound to have with her brother. She'd smiled at him, because he'd asked her in a way that suggested he knew full well that she was more than capable of handling it.

Milliardo had been furious, Relena thought, and had alternated between random outbursts of 'what the hell were you thinking' and 'that damn woman has some nerve getting pissed at me' with bouts of complete silence. Relena continued to hold onto that girlish dream that perhaps that meant he still had a tendresse for Lucrezia.

Just before she and Pagan left for the airport, Milliardo had given her a hug that put Noin's to shame. Sometimes the key to understanding Milliardo was figuring out all the things he'd left unsaid.

Things hadn't panned out the way she'd hoped when she'd called Noin, but she couldn't say she regretted trying.

She crumpled up the paper the sandwich had been wrapped in and threw it away. It was time to head toward the gate where her flight would be departing. She had one homework assignment left to complete and she planned on working on it while she waited for the airline to allow passengers to start boarding. She picked up the Styrofoam cup of coffee that she knew she'd have need of while trying to wade through the novel for her literature class. The narrative style was terribly dry and the plot failed to hold her interest.

Although she didn't need her other textbooks until she got back to school, she didn't dare pack them in her checked luggage out of fear that they might not be at the airport in Portland when she went to baggage claim. The tomes made the carryon a bit unwieldy, as she found out the hard way. She sighed in exasperation when one of the wheels caught a nearby chair.

Using her free hand, she managed to wiggle her luggage loose from the chair leg. She tossed her head to get her hair out of her face, then determinedly took a step forward.

She almost spilled the contents of her cup over the firm body she came into contact with, and looked up to apologize profusely as she transferred the beverage to her other hand and flicked some of the coffee off her fingers.

She was dumbstruck, not for the first time that day, to see she'd run into one of Peacecraft Corp's new partners.

The slightly amused expression he wore didn't reach his eyes. She looked over his shoulder automatically and asked, "is Heero with you?"

She still had a long way to go before she could be trusted to speak in meetings concerning delicate matters, and she wondered if she'd ever have Quatre's tact, because it was immediately obvious that the question she'd asked was quite possibly the worst one she could come up with.

~~~~~

Duo looked up at the window Relena had told him she'd seen Heero from, and mentally tried to estimate the location of the apartment.

His hands were clammy, and he wiped them on his pants before rolling his shoulders back and then walking to the front door. Fortunately he did not need to be buzzed in. He turned the knob and headed up to the second floor.

He looked down the hallway to the right and narrowed it down to one or two doors. He stopped outside the nearest one and held up a hand to knock, when he thought he heard something.

The walls were paper-thin, and Duo was briefly thankful for the relative isolation of the penthouse suite before a second groan was heard inside the apartment.

He was completely stricken by the sound.

No, no, NO! He would not accept it. Would not believe it. Bedrooms were not right next to the hallway doors. Even if the walls were poor sound barriers, there was no way he could hear someone doing what it sounded like they were doing. Unless they were very, very loud.

And he was spurned into action when he heard one word, shouted in the throes of passion.

"Heero!"

The lock was much like the one on the apartment he'd lived in with his mother, and it was simple to bypass by lifting the door up and away from the jamb just enough to free the latch. Once he'd done that, he slammed the door open, unwilling to believe, unless he saw with his own eyes...

Which he did, almost as soon as the door shut behind him after rebounding off a kitchen chair.

The first thing he saw was the half-erect cock - just before he was slammed against the wall by the throat. Instead of worrying about his supply of oxygen, which wasn't being cut off at the moment, he was more concerned with the person attached to that angry red member.

His eyes traveled up the body, and irrationally, he first noticed the man was slightly broader of build than he himself was. Not quite 'beefcake,' as Hilde would say, but wide enough that the only thought that ran through his mind was a the litany 'not Heero...not Heero...'

He was so relieved his legs practically gave out, the hand at his neck the only thing keeping him vertical.

He finally allowed himself to raise his eyes from a well-formed chest to the gaze of the man who held him prisoner. Understandably, his eyes held a mix of surprise and fury.

"Trowa."

The fingers released his neck as if on command, and Duo glanced over at a very uncomfortable Quatre Winner, who was equally naked, save a condom that dangled from his flaccid penis.

It was surreal, Duo thought. He was obviously dreaming, because there was no way he was standing here in Heero's apartment with two men who had obviously been rudely interrupted.

Except he was wide awake, and he'd barged into the apartment hoping to do just that, interrupt the coupling that he could hear from the hallway. This was awkward. Funny how he hadn't quite thought through the ramifications of breaking and entering.

Trowa brushed past Quatre, who ran a hand through his hair and looked completely miserable, despite the physical evidence that he'd reached his climax. Either that or someone needed to tell Durex to go back to the drawing board.

Duo looked away, and noticed the luggage that was in the kitchen, again feeling a sense of foreboding.

Quatre sighed, and pushed himself away from the wall. "That's mine," he said. "I'm going to Nevada tomorrow."

Part of Duo's mind registered that Quatre's statement meant that only Milliardo Peacecraft would be left in California, and that it would behoove them to have someone else stay behind as things got off the ground with Sanquhar.

Maybe it was a good thing he'd missed his flight, after all.

He was afraid to ask, but he should have realized that Quatre might suspect why he was standing there, in his kitchen, uninvited. The man had certainly been rather perceptive in the meeting earlier. Who knew how well his mind worked now that he'd been sated?

"I'm sorry, Duo," Quatre said quietly, acting as if he weren't standing there without a stitch of clothing. "Trowa was going to take Heero to the airport, but he took a cab instead."

Duo shook his head. Gone? Heero was gone?

With that, it was like a door slammed shut. Duo had gambled and lost. How many times was he going to be too late? He'd left the meeting too late and found Heero gone from the hotel. He'd gotten here too late, and now Heero was gone for good.

And right now he was standing in an apartment with one of his new business partners, who, from the looks of things, lived here. And was gay.

Duo didn't think he could flee the apartment fast enough.

~~~~~

Quatre's heart went out to Duo as he watched the door slam shut. He tensed slightly as he heard Trowa's voice behind him.

"I take it you know him," he said, walking past Quatre once again.

Trowa was half-dressed, wearing his jeans and carrying his shirt and shoes. He sat down and pulled his socks out of one of the shoes. Quatre was pretty sure they had been randomly thrown somewhere on the floor not all that long ago.

He realized that the condom, cold and slimy now, was stuck to his thigh, and he pulled it off, hesitating slightly before returning to his room to dispose of it. He debated the wisdom of taking the time to get dressed, but he really wasn't up to discussing what had happened with Trowa naked as the day he was born.

What could he say to Trowa now? He'd committed one of the worst bedroom sins ever.

He fortunately had the art of dressing quickly down to a science, and Trowa was fully dressed and tying his shoes when he returned to the kitchen.

"Trowa," he said, still not sure what to say. An apology was probably a good place to start. "I'm sorry."

Trowa shook his head, and he looked up, brushing his mussed bangs out of his eyes. He chuckled, but there was little mirth in it.

"And I used to complain when Cathy called me Triton all the time," he said. "That was our cat. He only had three legs."

Trowa rubbed his temples, then sighed deeply. "I just have one question, Quatre."

Quatre nodded, licking his lips nervously.

"Were you thinking of him...then?"

It was an odd question, Quatre thought at first. How could he not have been thinking of Heero, to cry out his name like that?

He forced himself to remember the way it felt, buried in Trowa, the warmth around his cock, the ragged breathing of the other man as they fucked.

He'd closed his eyes, and it had felt good, so damned good. It hadn't felt that good since he'd made love to Heero.

He choked on that thought.

He'd made love to Heero, but he'd fucked Trowa.

He realized he hadn't actually been thinking of Heero, and had most likely called out his name just because it was the name that had been on the tip of his tongue in many of his fantasies, ever since he'd made love to Heero. It was a Pavlovian response, nothing more. He'd known damned well whose ass his balls had been pressed against when he came.

However, the fact that he'd looked at what they did as mere fucking, that, to Quatre, was a betrayal even worse than calling out the wrong name in the heat of passion.

Trowa sighed.

"I'm not going to lie and tell you it doesn't hurt, Quatre. It does. It bothers me - a lot. But I don't believe you used me as a substitute for Heero." He shook his head. "That's not why it hurts, so much, though," he said.

Instead of leaving, as Quatre fully expected him to, he sat down heavily.

"Quatre," he said. "I'm thrilled we had sex. It was damned good. I always knew it would be, with the right person. I've long suspected I was gay, but that was something I left unexplored while I was in the military.

"Then one day you waltzed into the bar, and I wanted you. Lust at first sight, and I knew damn well you were barely legal. I felt like some kind of pedophile, and yet I couldn't turn you away. I just liked having you around, to look at once in a while.

"Makes me sound like some kind of pervert, doesn't it?" he laughed softly. "Look, but don't touch. That's all I'd planned. And you looked a little bit lost, a lot like the way I felt when I was discharged.

"I hated that you sold your body for money, Quatre. I wanted to sate my curiosity, my lust, and offer you money myself, just to see what it was like, to feel what it was like. I wanted your hands on my body, your lips around my cock. I wanted you to be the one slamming into me if...when...I decided I was ready for that. I knew you'd be gentle when necessary, and hot and hard if that's what I needed.

"I couldn't do it, though. I would not insult my best friend that way."

Quatre closed his eyes and swallowed, wavering on his feet. He sat down opposite Trowa.

"Best friend?" he asked softly, then opened his eyes to see Trowa smiling at him sadly.

"Yes, Quatre, my best friend. My only friend, if you want to know the truth. I wanted you badly, but I got to know you, and I couldn't lose that.

"I eventually started to think of Heero as a friend as well, but I wanted to shake him for not recognizing what he could have with you. Your devotion to him has always been very hard to watch, Quatre. When I realized you'd had sex with him, I thought maybe it would convince me that I was wrong about a few things, but damn it, it changed nothing. Maybe because I knew that Heero didn't feel the same. Maybe because I thought he did, but I was successfully convincing myself otherwise. You two have always had a very ambiguous relationship."

"Trowa..."

"I think you need to decide what you want, Quatre." He stood up, then noticed that Quatre was nervously turning something over and over in his hands. Trowa reached over and stopped Quatre's fidgeting, then removed the item from the slightly trembling hands.

It was the eraser end of a pencil.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the half Heero had slipped in there earlier, then fit them together.

It was the same pencil. With the exception of a small notch in it, probably the result of a piece skittering under the cabinets, the two pieces formed an almost seamless straight line.

Trowa felt his lips twitch. "Stand up, Quatre," he said.

Quatre did so, half hoping that Trowa was planning to punch him in the stomach or something. He felt like shit and needed something to assuage the guilt that was eating him up inside.

Trowa dropped the pencil fragments on the table, then put his hand under Quatre's chin and tilted it up so they were eye to eye.

"I've already decided what I want," he said huskily. His eyelashes brushed his cheek as he leaned forward and very lightly touched his lips to Quatre's.

He felt the air drawn from his mouth and into Quatre's. He heard the sharp intake of breath and followed it with his tongue, lightly stroking Quatre's bottom lip. When he met with no resistance, he moved his hand up to the blond hair, burying his fingers in it. His other hand came to rest on Quatre's hip, and he sucked the lower lip between both of his, eliciting a moan from Quatre.

Trowa felt the hot flush of excitement throughout his body. He nudged Quatre's legs open with his right knee and moved closer, nibbling on the lower lip one more time before tentatively slipping his tongue into Quatre's mouth.

He had been celibate since his discharge, and he'd lusted after Quatre for so very long. On top of that, he'd been left only partly satisfied in terms of their first sexual experience.

Quatre moaned again, then slowly slid his tongue against Trowa's. Trowa sucked it into his mouth eagerly.

He couldn't contain the thrill he felt. It had been awkward, first-time sex, despite Quatre's extensive experience. Trowa had never lain with a man before, although he'd thought about it. He'd never kissed a man before either, and he groaned when Quatre started to become an aggressively active participant.

Quatre's hands slid behind him, cupping Trowa's derriere and pulling him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. A few heated moments later, Trowa pulled away reluctantly, panting slightly as his lungs reminded him of the duration of the kiss. Quatre's lips followed Trowa's for just a second before his eyes fluttered open and he seemed to realize the kiss had ended. His eyebrows furrowed slightly. Trowa noted that Quatre's brows, like his eyelashes, were slightly darker than his hair. But not, he remembered fondly, a darker gold like the hair elsewhere on his body.

"Trowa..." Quatre's voice, he noted with satisfaction, sounded almost wobbly.

He feathered a kiss over Quatre's lips one last time.

"I've waited this long," he said. "I don't suppose a few more months will kill me."

He walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind him quietly. When he reached the stairs, he took one look down the hallway and then placed a hand on either rail, pushing down on them experimentally. He lifted his weight up and swung his legs a few times, then cleared all thirteen steps, landing on his feet and dropping to a crouched position.

He stood up, unfolding his body gracefully. He couldn't quite keep from smiling again.

That's right, Quatre, he thought as he opened the door to the street outside. You damn well never kissed Heero like that.

~~~~~

Heero unlocked the door to his apartment and climbed the stairs, feeling like an intruder in his own home.

A layer of dust covered everything, but a flick of the light switch indicated that the utilities were still working. Noin had taken care of paying his bills in his absence as he'd asked.

He owed her, more than he could ever repay. He supposed Noin was almost as much an older sister to him as Kitty had been his younger sister. Almost, but not quite.

He had been stunned when he'd realized that Milliardo Peacecraft had to be Noin's ex, the infamous Zechs he'd heard about, on and off, since he'd known her.

It explained a lot. Noin and Zechs had been in the Army together, and by Noin's account, they'd been recognized as the cream of the crop in their battalion. Noin was damned proud of that. Her marksmanship exceeded Heero's, and she never let him forget it, either, if the opportunity arose.

She was always tense when she talked about him, though, even when she was in the middle of recalling a humorous anecdote. Her spine would stiffen as if she suddenly remembered who she was talking about.

She'd made a few attempts at reconciliation. Heero always knew when she had, because she'd come to work the next day more uptight than when she'd left, in a way that none of their cases ever did. Knowing Noin, she probably spent a good portion of her days off improving her aim on the firing range.

The biggest surprise had been when she'd cut off her hair. She'd never really cared for it long, as evidenced by her complaints about the extra time it took even to twist it up and out of the way. She'd seemed a bit put out, as if she had thrown in the towel in some sort of competition, but overall she was happier with the style, and it had looked good on her.

He briefly recalled the photo of Meiran Long with Duo's ex-girlfriend and wondered what Noin would make of Meiran.

If he were straight, he'd definitely go for someone like Meiran Long, if she were single, or Noin, if they weren't partnered together. Noin never let her personal life interfere with her ability to do the job. It was why he'd been unable to continue working. He could not honestly say he would be able to put his upset over Kitty on a shelf and go about his day as if nothing happened.

He supposed there was just something about strong women that appealed to him. Knowing Duo, he was willing to bet that Hilde fit into that category as well.

He sat on the couch and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Noin's number rapidly.

"Yuy, it's about damned time you got back! I thought we had a date!"

He laughed lightly. "If you'd told me you were in Los Angeles, we could have flown back together."

She snorted. "You're just as guilty as I am, and besides, I was there on a mission of mercy."

"Euthanasia isn't legal for humans," he said solemnly.

"You're only getting away with that because you're there and I'm here. You are there, aren't you? Your apartment?"

"Your housekeeping skills are sadly lacking."

"Fuck you, Yuy," she said. "You're lucky I watered your plants."

"I don't have any plants."

"But I would have if you did."

"You're too good to me, Noin."

"You owe me a backrub for this," she groused, but with affection. "Are you going to be in the office tomorrow?"

"If I'm lucky, they'll release me for desk duty while I undergo psychiatric evaluation," he said.

"Well, hurry up and convince them you're sane."

"As sane as you, perhaps?"

"That makes two backrubs you owe me," she said. "Stop acting like you're on vacation. It's time to get back to doing what you do best."

The words reminded him of Duo's comment about his bedroom skills, and he realized that it still stung a bit.

"Some of us need our beauty sleep," he said, although his heart wasn't in their banter tonight. "And I'm not talking about myself."

"Fuck you twice, Yuy. Sideways."

"Have you always had such a colorful vocabulary?"

"Would you like me to switch to Italian? It sounds a lot prettier when I tell you to shit on your hands and hit yourself in the face."

That one made him laugh. It was Noin's favorite insult, and she was right, it did sound rather lyrical in Italian.

"See you tomorrow, Yuy, and this time I mean it. Don't make a liar out of me."

"I won't."

"Noin out," and with that, she disconnected the call from her end.

"Yuy out," he said quietly, folding up the phone and setting it on the cushion next to him.

He put his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his knuckles.

The apartment was his, but it seemed like someone else's home. He'd thought he would feel the sense of coming home, and that it wouldn't seem so lonely, but it did.

The dust, the look of abandonment, only emphasized how lonely the apartment seemed now.

He would not be able to sleep until he'd remedied that. While he dusted, his thoughts unerringly returned to the person most responsible for his malaise.

He wasn't at all unsure of his feelings for Duo. He'd loved Kitty. He loved Quatre, and he supposed he loved Noin, too. He cared for and respected Trowa.

He'd given his heart to Duo.

He'd felt no guilt for kissing Quatre, at first. He'd merely needed that reassurance that there was someone he cared for that was alive. Someone who cared for him in return. Someone who was in front of him, someone he could touch, and taste.

The physical attraction they had for each other had nothing to do with it, although he supposed he might have ended up in bed with Quatre, if not for his upcoming flight. If not for the fact that Trowa had basically laid his heart on the line for Heero to see.

If not for Duo. It always came back to Duo.

Kissing Quatre was different. It was still intimate, and Heero supposed he'd always have feelings for Quatre that were difficult to categorize. He'd wanted to show Quatre that just as much as he'd needed that human contact. He didn't have to tell Quatre he loved him in words when a kiss did just as well.

Then the guilt had crept in.

If he'd met Quatre under different circumstances, he was sure he'd have been just as drawn to him.

That is, unless he'd met Duo first.

At least there was one thing he didn't have to be guilty of. He hadn't thought of Duo while he was busy kissing Quatre, because once Duo entered his thoughts, he'd broken off the kiss.

Then he felt as if he'd betrayed everyone he cared for, with the exception of Noin. Although, if he gave himself enough time, he could probably figure out a way that his presence near Zechs had negatively impacted Noin's life, too. It would be nice if his bucket shop stopped turning such a profit.

The kiss had felt right, though. It had been more than the chaste kiss Quatre had given him the night they met, but far less than what he'd shared with Duo. Perhaps they both knew that involving their tongues introduced a level of intimacy that neither of them felt was appropriate.

"It's all right, Heero," Quatre had said. "It didn't mean anything that you didn't want it to mean." And damned if Quatre hadn't looked just as guilty.

Heero now realized it had been a good-bye kiss. They were both saying farewell to the lives they'd been leading and shedding the cloaks they'd hidden themselves in for so long. And change is a good thing, Yuy, he reminded himself fiercely.

Once he finished wiping down the furniture with a damp cloth and deciding he could live with postponing the vacuuming since he didn't want to disturb his neighbors, he began unpacking his suitcase. He removed the metal box with the gun and set it on his bed to deal with last, then pulled out a pair of jeans. They were the same pair that he'd worn on Saturday.

Damn it, Heero thought, hanging the jeans on a hanger and putting them in his closet. Damn it.

After that kiss, he'd panicked. He'd picked up the phone to call for an earlier flight, afraid to face Trowa, ashamed that he'd enjoyed it, and mortified that he'd initiated it. He'd dialed Trowa's number instead, and as soon as the other man answered, he'd blurted out, "I'm sorry!"

That had apparently been enough to spurn Trowa into action, because it wasn't long after that that the bartender had shown up at the apartment.

It had been awkward at first, the three of them there together, now that Trowa knew that Heero had been intimate with Quatre, and now that Heero knew more about Trowa's feelings.

Then Trowa had turned to Quatre and asked how the meeting with his father had gone. Heero had been surprised that Trowa knew about the meeting, then he started to wonder how much Iria had told Trowa all the times Quatre had been avoiding speaking with his sister.

Even more surprising, though, was the realization that Quatre, the man with an almost uncanny knack for reading people, was oblivious to the signals Trowa was giving. He may have felt Trowa's sense of betrayal the other night after their argument, whatever it was about, but Heero was stunned that the blond didn't seem capable of seeing beyond that.

Heero supposed that was a good thing, actually. It gave Trowa the opportunity to let Quatre know when the time was right.

He could only hope he got the chance to do the same with Duo. He was tired of the merry-go-round of hope and despair he was on.

That was another problem. When he started attending the counseling sessions, questions were bound to be asked.

What was he going to tell them about Duo? He could not tell them something he hadn't told Duo himself.

It seemed he and Trowa had a LOT in common.

He would see Duo again, he told himself firmly, slamming the dresser drawers shut harder than need be. He hadn't really believed he'd lost Duo. He had faith in what he'd seen in the other man. He wasn't projecting. It had been there, and it had been obvious to Heero, if not to Duo.

It seemed harder to hold on to that belief the more time that went by, and it had been less than forty-eight hours since he'd last seen Duo. But hold onto it he would. He was almost as good as Quatre at reading people. It wasn't just his imagination. He wasn't wrong about the way Duo felt. He just had to be patient.

He bit back a laugh as he placed the last of the toiletries in the bathroom. He was looking forward to going back to work, returning to the comparatively uncomplicated lifestyle of trying to infiltrate, dismantle, and destroy the intricate tapestries woven by drug lords.

Once everything was unpacked, he threw himself on the bed, reaching for something that wasn't there. He pulled his pillow out from under his head and tucked it under his chin. He was definitely getting a teddy bear.

He could almost hear Esperanza's raucous laughter as he amended that thought to include the possibility of a stuffed cat instead.

~~~~~

Duo sank into his seat in the first class section of the Boeing 757 and sighed wearily. The section was empty save three other passengers who looked to be preparing to take a nap during the nonstop flight.

He'd been eager to get out of Los Angeles, eager to leave everything behind him. He'd been lucky to manage to find an available red-eye bound for New York, because he didn't think he could handle another night in LA.

Awkward did not even begin to describe the situation Duo had found himself in earlier.

The fact that he'd barged into someone's apartment and practically caught them flagrante delicto, however, did not bother him as much as it should.

He had been overwhelmingly relieved that Heero was not one of the participants.

Wufei was definitely the one who was flying back to meet with Quatre Winner. Duo didn't know if he'd ever be able to face the man again.

He frowned as the other details started to fall into place. He knew damn well he'd heard Heero's name. Knew he'd recognized the voice that shouted it at the moment of orgasm, before he'd forced the door open.

He felt a brief white-hot flash of hatred for his new business partner and shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

He also hated to admit that he'd liked what he'd seen before averting his eyes. Quatre was slender, like Heero, and from the brief distance in the kitchen, had seemed just as hairless. Apparently he and Heero had a few things in common.

In contrast, 'Trowa,' whose sudden movement had made Duo feel slow in comparison, sported a line of dark hair running from his navel to the dark curls that surrounded a rather impressive cock. Duo wasn't sure if he'd been impressed by its size, as it was only half at attention and hardly suggestive of its potential, or the mere fact that Trowa had managed to stay semi-erect even while he held an intruder at bay.

Let Wufei figure it out. Duo had had it. He'd tried to act on a whim, and all it had done was served to remind him that some highly risky ventures were doomed to costly failure.

The plane couldn't lift off soon enough for him. He felt both a sense of relief and loss as the city of Los Angeles and its lights were no longer visible.

He unfastened the safety belt as soon as the message light went out, indicating that it was safe to do so. He opened the overhead compartment and pulled out a pillow and blanket, which he dropped onto the seat below. He removed his carryon and set it down as well. His fingers hesitated over the zipper only for a second as he opened it so he could retrieve the novel Meiran had given him the previous day.

He could certainly manage to read the damn thing without thinking of who else might have read it and enjoyed it.

Once he'd returned his luggage to the storage bin and settled down, he opened the book and started reading. He winced slightly as Brigid O'Shaughnessy offered to buy the investigator with her body, but managed to continue reading until he got to a line that had him blinking his eyes rapidly.

//"Do you mean I oughtn't to chase after you? If that's what you mean why don't you say it right out?"//

Duo felt the page tear slightly under his thumb as he slammed the book shut. He dropped the paperback into the empty seat to his right and turned off the overhead light. He grabbed the pillow and stuffed it angrily under his head, then grasped the corner of the blanket and pulled it over his shoulders with a slight turn to the left.

Business travelers were expected to sleep on red eye flights, after all, and he was sure he'd have a long day ahead of him.

The first of many, he thought bitterly.

He dozed fitfully. Images of a naked Quatre and an equally naked Heero engaged in acts that were physically impossible flitted through his mind at random intervals.

By the time his flight arrived at Kennedy Airport, he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week. He extended the handle of his carryon and wheeled it through the airport. He'd deal with the fact that the rest of his luggage was most likely somewhere at LaGuardia later. There was nothing that couldn't be replaced, at any rate. He gratefully climbed into the waiting taxi and gave his address, then slid his hand into his pocket to reassure himself that the contents were still there.

On the seat of the airplane, next to the one Duo had occupied, lay a paperback novel and a tangled mass of linen and bits of hypoallergenic fiber.

tbc

~~~~~

Deceptive cadence - a chord progression that seems to lead to resolving itself on the final chord; but does not

FBI - Federal Bureau of Investigations

IRS - Internal Revenue Service

Flagrante delicto (also used "in flagrante delicto") - while the crime is blazing, i.e., in the very act of committing a misdeed. Often used to describe adulterous spouses who are caught "in the act."

In case you are like me and can't remember what you read if more than a day goes by in between chapters, the bucket shop proverb was "Kaze fukeba okeya ga moukaru" or "a bucket shop profits when wind blows." Or, as Quatre pointed out, the world is interconnected.

~~~~~

Kewla - you don't know how hard I laughed when I read your comment about Duo not wanting to meet Quatre because of the clothes he was wearing, considering I knew what was going to happen this chapter.